


We Meet Again

by starprise_entership



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, a hint of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 10:52:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13879344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starprise_entership/pseuds/starprise_entership
Summary: Garak finds himself face to face with a very familiar person a few months after the end of the Dominion War.





	We Meet Again

Garak ignores the chatter filling the geleta house as he sits down with a glass of kanar, still thinking about the article he hasn’t had time to finish reading that morning. Taking a sip, he raises his PADD to reading level and he dives right in.

_More Federation aid,_ reads Garak, and he immediately reacts by skipping the paragraph completely. He’s avoided thinking about the Federation, for it brings back memories of the war where he worked with them. He worked against his own people, and inevitably there was a price to pay. His breaths quicken when thoughts of the war resurface - _no, not now_ , Garak regains control over his own thoughts and pushes them to the back of his head. _Deep breaths, Elim. Deep breaths._ He closes his eyes, and counts the seconds as they tick past, just as Ezri had suggested. This method usually worked with astounding success, but he had never, ever suggested to the counsellor that that was the case.

With his mind now blank, Garak opens his eyes and takes to reading about the recent calls for economic reform in the poorer sectors of Cardassia City.

As the sun dips lower in the sky, the shadows cast by the window frames shift and it’s at this time that Garak knows it’s time to leave for home. Looking up from his PADD, his eyes avert when he sees the back of a familiar Starfleet uniform jacket.

_What on earth would a Starfleet officer be doing in a place like this?_ The Federation Officers he’s seen around tend to keep to the aid centres, rarely moving outside that little bubble. This man, he’s been brave, to step out of those dreadfully chilling aid centres, into the searing heat of the Cardassian summer, and into normal residential regions. And he seems to be sipping experimentally at a beverage, as if he’s tried something similar before but wasn’t sure he liked it.

The longer Garak stares at the back of his head, the more he starts to feel like he knows his person. And when he sees a hint of a blue on the man’s undershirt when he turns his head, Garak finally realises. And it hits him like a brick. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s driven by the impulse to know, _to know what the hell Julian Bashir is doing in a place like this, and why._ He takes a few steps forward, stealthily approaching him from behind. Hesitating, he gives Julian’s shoulder a gentle tap, not quite expecting the almost violent response that comes from him. Garak feels the rise of his shoulder as Julian’s breath hitches in his throat - _oh, yes, just like the first time_ , but immediately Julian swivels around, and backs off for a brief moment before he processes who he’s coming face to face with.

“Doctor,” Garak greets, looking mildly hurt but mildly enthusiastic at the same time. “It’s been some time since we last met.”

“Hello, Garak,” says Julian, sheepishly, “and I’m sorry for my outburst. So far I haven’t had much luck with interacting with the locals.” A grin spreads across his face and Garak almost responds with one of his own - _damn you, Doctor, and your charming, contagious smile._

“Well, I’m even surprised that you’re even in a place like this.” Garak remarks. “You left safe, cozy Deep Space Nine to travel to an area like this?” Garak looks outside at the half-demolished building across the road from the establishment, now a pile of rubble. “A ruined wilderness?” He snorts. “And I thought you were most comfortable in your sheltered Federation establishments?”

“Well,” Julian starts, a bit defensive, “this is hardly a wilderness, and I suppose I don’t have to remind you, this supposed wilderness is your home. And I’m not the same sheltered, naive man you met on the station so many years ago.”

“I suppose you’re just here on shore leave. And you’ll scurry back onto that transport when your visit’s over, and head home to Deep Space Nine.” Garak assumes, prompting Julian to continue. It’s amusing, getting him all agitated. _He still has the same fight in him,_ Garak observes. He still has strength and enthusiasm in the way he speaks but the light in his eyes indicates that he’s a broken man. Nobody could’ve gone through the war and come out the same.

Julian gets a bit tongue-tied, but he continues, his gaze dropping a bit lower. “Well, I’m sorry for having to disappoint you, but I’m not here on shore leave. You see, I’ve resigned my post at Deep Space Nine. I’m permanently stationed here.”

“And thinking back, I really should have left a few months ago, once the war ended. And I didn’t know why I didn’t.” He looks up again, making eye contact with Garak. “Am I too late?”

“Well, whether you are late or not isn’t up to me to decide.” Garak points out. “You stayed on because of your beloved Ezri, didn’t you?”

“About Ezri.” Julian lets the words slip from his tongue, hesitating as the toe of his boot marks out a faint line on the floor. “We came to a realisation, that we weren’t quite, compatible with each other.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Garak says, softer. His heart skips a beat when - _no, no, that wouldn’t be very proper. It wouldn’t be very becoming of me to derive happiness from his turn of misfortune._

Julian shakes his head, smiling. “No, no. I believe it was for the better. For the both of us. Me and Ezri, I mean. It really should’ve been someone else.”

The pair stand in silence, no words coming forth. The chatter starts to die down as people start to leave for home. Muffled words are heard from outside as the daily evening broadcast plays. Garak says nothing, but keeps his eyes trained on Julian. Under the warm glow of the setting sun, he looks almost heavenly and at that one instant Garak feels that things are back the way they were. Just a young, naive man and his mysterious friend, debating over lunch. Just two people, without a care in the world, devoting their full attention to the analysis and discussion of the greatest literature in the galaxy.

_I missed you and it feels oh, so terribly awful to miss you and now that you’re here -_ Garak blinks, hard, and yells at himself to get rid of those sentimental thoughts. An inevitable weakness of his, and even more so when the man he cared about most was standing right in front of him. It seemed tempting. There was an opening for second chances, for dreams and aspirations that couldn’t have been fulfilled the first time.

“Come home with me, Doctor,” Garak suggests, before adding, “for dinner. I believe that we’re both interested in catching up and learning about our recent endeavours.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” Julian says, leaning forward as the volume of his voice drops just a bit more. He’s so tantalisingly close now - if things were any different Garak would presume he was _teasing_. But still Garak keeps his cool, and with an exhale of breath he straightens up, and offers to lead the way. When they leave their fingers brush - just the tiniest hint of contact, offering Garak the tiniest sliver of hope.

 

 

 


End file.
